Three Swords
by Icy Cake
Summary: The wilds; hot, dry and barren. Surviving through the conditions is not the only trial three warriors are forced to face - the vast land is ridden with enemies and traps. Reliance on one another is crucial and together they will reach the end.


**Three Swords**

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It was sweltering. The arid desert was daunted by the blazing sun. Strong, dry wind sheared over the vast land and scathed the very skin it touched.

Marth shielded his face from the harsh wind with his left arm all the while squinting through the blowing grit to spot the other two. He caught sight of Ike's billowing cape beyond the high cliffs before it vanished.

Sighing heavily, Marth licked his dry lips and held his sword tight as he approached the platforms. With each leap, he held his breath. The metal platforms, amazingly sturdy despite the terrible wind, were held aloft by an unseen force. They were perfectly placed in the air for one to easily jump from one to the next. It was most intriguing to wonder who had placed them there.

As the prince made his way to the top, he heard the echoes of battle carried by the wind. Marth could not but frown; Ike and Metaknight were engaged with the enemy once again. It troubled him that they would go so far ahead without thinking of a strategic approach. There was a chance of getting caught in traps…

There was a distinct cry of pain. Has someone been injured?

Marth hastened his pace and bounded high into the air on the last jump. Just on top, not far from the edge, was a strange, intimidating machine. It was large; its massive white metal body, held on small tracks, hosted a towering, long-necked mechanized head. A fearsome beast, its large 'jaws' were open and ready to clamp over the swordsman lying face-first on the ground.

Before the prince could shout a warning, Ike managed to roll onto his back to defend the attack with his massive blade. A loud, metallic clang sounded from the impact. Ike was driven further into the ground but held up his guard against the large foe.

The prince landed in a cloud of dust and without hesitation, he dashed straight for the beast's head. His swift steps carried him with great speed. The beast was unaware of his presence until the edge of his sword cleaved into its head.

Sparks flew when his blade struck the metal but Marth knew that the beast was unhindered by the wound he had inflicted on its protected surface. It merely flinched but at least its attention was now diverted away from the injured swordsman. It cast its fierce gaze in the prince's direction and swung its massive jaws straight for him.

Anticipating the attack, Marth leapt gracefully back and out of its reach. There, he waited for an opening to occur when the beast would rear its ugly head back. Just as he was about to move in, something diving from the sky made him stop.

Diving straight for the monster's head was Metaknight caught in a wicked spiral. A flurry of wings and blade, the small, masked warrior drilled into the creature at incredible speed.

Metal was soundly pierced through completely from one end to the other, severing the head of the beast. Each neck segment burst into flame after the fall of the head – it was slain!

No – it had yet to be defeated. The short-lived victory was replaced with caution as the robust body began to move forward on its treads. Ike stood before it, his golden blade held forward. He was quickly joined by the other two who also brandished their blades, ready for the beast's next attack.

Suddenly, the metal tank split open to reveal a surprise. Marth was absolutely taken back at the green blob hidden inside the metal husk. Its round red eyes – appearing so innocent and frightened, peered out at them. It was a weak looking creature. Pitiful. Its reliance on the heavy, outer protection made it ever more pathetic.

Both the prince and Ike were hesitant to advance but Metaknight took the opportunity to head straight for the exposed fiend. Leathery wings carried the small warrior quickly to close the distance. As fast as lightning, Metaknight's blade slashed at the blob repeatedly.

Marth cringed at the gooey sounds the monster made with each hit. Guilt trodden, the prince could only watch as the metal husk exploded upon the blob's demise.

It was a quiet explosion – one that did not pain the ears. Pieces of metal scattered throughout and fortunately there were no remains of the green blob.

A prize was left in the monster's place – something round and red.

Marth moved in for a closer look and raised an eyebrow when he recognized the object Metaknight held in his gloved hand.

The masked warrior lifted the Maximum Tomato for the two to see. His glowing yellow eyes fell on Ike. With a low grunt, he motioned for the stronger swordsman to take the fruit.

Ike snorted and stubbornly waved it away. Marth however, second Metaknight's decision and gestured to the fruit as well.

The mercenary crossed his arms and formed a scowl but the other two persisted. With his patience thin, the masked swordsman tossed the tomato to the reluctant young man who caught it in utter surprise.

Thrusting his gallant cape around, Metaknight continued on wordlessly. Marth, giving Ike a small smirk, quickly followed after.

Over the other side of the cliff, the two quick swordsmen descended down on platforms similar to the ones used to climb up. Falling was more disheartening than climbing – seeing the distance of the ground below was unnerving.

The prince stepped carefully on each platform, taking caution to the strong wind as he perfected his jumps. He was rather envious of Metaknight's ability to fly – the masked warrior easily glided from one platform to another.

Drenched in both nervous and hot sweat, Marth was most relieved when he landed safely on the ground. He had spotted a few generic soldiers of the Subspace Army from above but they had long been defeated by Metaknight.

The masked swordsman was waiting, peering over at the prince through the slits of his mask. An aura of impatience surrounded the short warrior, making the other timidly smile.

Huffing, Metaknight moved on with the prince right behind him. They did not travel far for they had reached another open canyon – one that was not aided with platforms. Peering over his shoulder, Marth watched Ike land then waved him over.

With their capes noisily blown by the wind, the three swordsmen gazed over the grand canyon and beyond the vast wasteland. Far in the distance a plume of dust was visible – it was obviously the machine they had spotted earlier. They were getting near.

Ike soundly smirked. He narrowed his gaze at the other two in challenge as he nodded towards their destination.

Marth simply shook his head, returning a sullen glare. Metaknight, on the other hand, accepted the challenge with an amusing snort. Before Marth could protest, both Ike and Metaknight bounded off the cliff and into the canyon, leaving the prince behind… _again_.

He rolled his eyes and sighed in disbelief. Their rash actions were very annoying. But without a doubt, it was those rash actions that got them this far. Marth hated to admit that.

Not wanting to waste another second, he dashed forward and leaped over the edge. The height he fell from was terrifying. His clothes and cape whipped noisily from the passing hot wind.

He focused on the quickly rising grey-stoned ground, preparing his body to land on the hard surface. However, as he neared the bottom, the grey stones that scattered all over the canyon valley were becoming something else.

They were not stones… they were spikes!

It was a trap!

In a panic, he searched for the others, seeing Ike scrambling on crumbling ground towards Metaknight who stood on a singular piece of erected land, free of harm. The earth that disappeared beneath the mercenary's feet revealed more deadly spires. If only Marth jumped a little farther, he would have been able to leap over the bed of spikes. Unfortunately, he was heading for the hazard.

The two swordsmen, Marth was most thankful for them, noticed the prince's dire situation. Metaknight flew straight at the falling prince, his short gloved hand stretched out. Marth reached forward and clasped the masked warrior's soft grip. However, the momentum of his fall combined with his greater weight forced his helper to buckle violently in the air. They both fell towards the spikes but then Metaknight righted himself and flapped his large wings. It momentarily slowed their descent slightly but Marth was far too heavy for the smaller warrior to lift.

There was no choice – Marth did not want to endanger both of them. With no regrets, he released the masked warrior's hand, much to Metaknight's shock, and descended to his grave.

However, the moment of death never came.

A strong hand gripped around his wrist and stopped his fall. Gasping, Marth stared wide-eyed at his savior. Ike, dangling from the hilt of his blade embedded deeply into the side of the erected land, had caught the prince before his demise.

Relief washed over the mercenary's strained face while the other was still stunned in surprise. An amusing smile then adorned the prince's face. It was truly ironic – rashness had brought them into trouble and yet it was through that very same attitude that Marth was saved.

He lightly laughed despite the situation he was in, making the other frown questionably. Metaknight swooped down beside them shortly after, his glowing eyes shifting between the two hanging swordsmen. He was possibly content that neither was harmed but it was rather difficult to tell. Pointing to the top, Metaknight flew onto the ledge and waited for them.

Having no other means to get back up, Ike had to swing on his blade to gather momentum. Grunting with effort, Ike tossed the prince as high as he could on the last swing.

Marth reached up to grab Metaknight's waiting hand and then clung onto the ledge with his other hand. Clambering safely to the top, he only let out a tired sigh before turning around to reach for the other swordsman left below.

Ike pulled himself up on his sword, high enough for Marth to get a hold of his outstretched hand.

It was not long until everyone was safe on the small island in the sea of spikes. Exhausted, the three lingered on the lone piece of land to catch their breaths. Despite the blazing sun scorching them from above and the blistering winds of the land, the three warriors enjoyed their short little break.

Marth was first to rise. He gave both of his companions a thankful smile and an appreciative nod. Ike, lying tiredly on his back with his head under his arms in a rather relaxed position, simply smirked up at him.

Metaknight only snorted in response then hopped to his feet. Wordlessly, he turned around but then glanced back and motioned for them to continue on.

Ike groaned and reluctantly got up, brushing a hand through his dirty blue hair. Sand and grit sifted through his fingers but he didn't seem to mind.

The prince could say his hair was in the same filthy state. He brushed a hand quickly through his bangs and felt the awful particles of earth tangled within.

Frowning slightly, Marth had to endure the rest of the journey in such a dirty state. It didn't bother him too much though, he wasn't the only one covered in soil.

He dabbed at the sweat collected on his brow and joined the masked swordsman. Hefting his large golden blade over his shoulder, Ike was right beside them.

Together, they jumped over the pit of spikes to the other side and made their way to the next dangerous situation they were bound to run into.

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A/N: Similar to _Star Shower_ there is no use of dialogue. I actually find it fun to write it this way, challenging too! I was planning to add in the battle with Galleom but then thought second of that. It seems satisfying enough.

Now that Sakurai had explained most of the story at the dojo, almost everything makes sense! (Although, I'm still rather confused at a few things but oh well.)

I hope you all enjoyed this little story and thanks for reading! Feedback would be most appreciated.


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